


Wed, Bed, Behead

by WynneWritesHQ



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fuck Marry Kill, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 03:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18885850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WynneWritesHQ/pseuds/WynneWritesHQ
Summary: “It is called “Wed, Bed, Behead”. One person says three names, and the other says who they would wed, who they would bed, and who they would behead.” Ragnar explained. His eyes never left Athelstan, drinking in his very reaction, no matter how small.Athelstan swallowed. He felt like this was a mistake, but……he had never been able to say no to that man.





	Wed, Bed, Behead

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea when this takes place. Season 2? Season 3? WHO KNOWS! It’s just self-indulgent as all fuck. And a short fic, because I can’t produce full-on smut in this situation. Beware of cavities (especially towards the second half of the fic)! I ship these two like there is no tomorrow, I swear…

The day was cloudy, had been since that morning, and didn’t look like it would revert to sunny at any time soon. Athelstan was sitting outside, in the hill one could see from Ragnar’s old peasant house, legs crossed and hands in his lap. Thankfully, there wasn’t much wind; otherwise, the day would’ve appeared unkind to the ex-priest, who was more used to England’s more benign weather.

A faint rustle behind him caught his attention, but he decided to appear still, as if he was utterly unintimidated by it. He might as well look bored for all he cared.

“I was looking for you.”

Athelstan sighed unconsciously, letting go of the air he’d been holding. He had instantly recognized the soft voice as Ragnar’s. It wasn’t unusual for the warrior to use English when speaking to him, but Athelstan was caught off-guard every time. Somehow, a part of him always expected to have to speak Old Norse instead.

“You’ve found me, then.” He replied amiably in English.

“It seems so.” Ragnar took a seat beside him, maybe a bit too closer than he’d do to other people. Athelstan didn’t mind it; he was used to that, too. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking, I guess.” Athelstan hadn’t taken his eyes off the calm ocean he could see in between the steep fiords. “I wanted some time alone.”

“I will join you.” Ragnar’s tone didn’t leave any room to reply, and so Athelstan didn’t. He did, however, look at Ragnar.

His mind was halfway sure it had been a mistake when he caught sight of those impossibly blue eyes staring at him. Shied, Athelstan looked back to the ocean just in time to miss the playful smile, glinting in unison with Ragnar’s eyes.

“As you wish.” Athelstan said, just to fill the silence.

It was the same silence that stretched for some moments more. Ragnar used it to readjust his posture, laying one leg completely on the grass and leaving his right knee bent, elbow comfortably resting on it. The posture practically made him bend towards his left side a bit – towards Athelstan – it made Ragnar’s smile widen until it resembled a smirk.

“Would you play with me?” Ragnar asked suddenly, breaking the silence. The warrior delighted in how distraught Athelstan looked, probably too caught in the double meaning to realize Ragnar hadn’t meant it.

“Play…?” Athelstan repeated, unsure. Wide eyes followed Ragnar as he nodded, bowing his head maybe a little more than necessary just to see him squirm. “What game do you have in mind?”

“One game that I have seen some children playing, when I came here.” Ragnar looked to Athelstan almost expectantly, as if expecting to be corrected for his English. The younger had nothing to correct, and so he let Ragnar know. It caused that damned smile to return in full force. “I need another person to play it.”

“ _With_.” Corrected Athelstan. “You need another person to play it _with_.” Ragnar moved his head a little, accepting the quip. Athelstan was sure that he wouldn’t make that mistake more than a couple times more; Ragnar was quick to learn. “I guess I can play it with you, although I don’t know what game you’re speaking about.”

“It is called “Wed, Bed, Behead”. One person says three names, and the other says who they would wed, who they would bed, and who they would behead.” Ragnar explained. His eyes never left Athelstan, drinking in his very reaction, no matter how small.

Athelstan swallowed. He felt like this was a mistake, but…

…he had never been able to say no to that man.

“Very well. Who should say the names first?” Athelstan said instead.

“I will.” Ragnar took a moment to think. “Rollo, Lagertha, and… Floki.”

“Ah…” Athelstan made a small noise that Ragnar loved to hear. “I’d… wed Lagertha… kill Floki…” Ragnar’s smile broadened.

“I did not think you would bed my brother.” Ragnar teased.

“I would not!” Athelstan replied, maybe a little too quickly. Ragnar caught it instantly. “You didn’t give me quite an easy group of names.”

“Take your revenge now, then.” Ragnar prompted.

Athelstan took a moment to think of three names that might put Ragnar in a pinch. He had a feeling that this was the kind of game teenaged women might play just to pass time, to have something to tease their friends with. He absolutely didn’t see why Ragnar would choose to play it, much less with him of all people, but oh well.

“Aslaug, Ecbert, and Torstein.”

“You are cruel.” Ragnar’s eyes glinted mirthlessly. Athelstan’s only reply was to shrug his shoulders. “I’d wed Aslaug, and bed Torstein.”

“I didn’t expect that.” Athelstan muttered.

“Did you think I would bed Ecbert instead?”

“…I didn’t say that.”

Ragnar’s chuckle was dark, and it made Athelstan’s skin ripple in goosebumps.        

“Judith, Helga, Ragnar.”

Athelstan didn’t miss a beat when he heard the three names the other man had picked for him to choose from, relieved that at least this time he had two women instead of one. For some reason, saying that he would bed a man when in Ragnar’s presence made him feel some kind of way for which he had no words. He wasn’t used to that sentiment, and so he tried to avoid it as much as he could.

“I would bed Judith.” That part was easy; Athelstan had been in her bed before. “And I know how horrible this makes me seem, but… I’d have to behead Helga…”

“To marry me?” Ragnar asked, leaning dangerously close to Athelstan. The younger blushed at the low tone he was using, at how smooth he sounded.

It took all his willpower not to nod his head wordlessly, event though he knew Ragnar could read him well in any case. The warrior had never failed a single reading he’d ever done of Athelstan, or so Athelstan felt. He swallowed around the lump in his dry throat, but couldn’t erase the feeling of Ragnar leaning even closer to kiss his cheek.

The gesture was sweet, loving almost, and Athelstan wondered if this was everything Ragnar had intended to obtain with such a game. But, if all he’d wanted was a confession from Athelstan, he could’ve asked directly. It wasn’t like Athelstan would’ve been able to refuse it – to refuse _him_ – and both knew that.

Ragnar smiled and Athelstan could feel it against his skin. The older moved a little, kissing down the side of Athelstan’s face until he reached his lips. He used two fingers to turn a pliant Athelstan towards him, letting him feel that very same smile against his lips instead.

Ragnar was slow, Athelstan noted, kissing him languidly in the seclusion the hill provided. Athelstan’s head spun in the most beautiful of ways, and he reciprocated the kiss after just a second’s hesitation. Ragnar kissed him slightly deeper at that, giving his mouth a couple of quick kitten-licks for good measure.

That made Athelstan let out the softest sound Ragnar had ever heard from him. The warrior immediately wanted more, and so he kept on kissing him, leaning his body fully towards Athelstan, who received him in kind. It made Ragnar’s heart feel light, lighter than it had ever felt with Aslaug – he didn’t dare think of Lagertha right now – and he welcomed the feeling, knowing Athelstan, his Athelstan, felt the same way towards him as he had always felt towards his _priest_.


End file.
